


Sidney Claus

by MapleMermaid



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9039815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleMermaid/pseuds/MapleMermaid
Summary: "What did you think the initials 'SC' on all of my things stood for?"
Geno stares at Sid and feels his eye twitch. Really. "Sidney Crosby!"
Wherein Sid needs some help, and Geno is missing some pretty integral pieces of information to understand any of this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsumego](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsumego/gifts).



> Thank Tsu for this, because this wouldn't be half as thought-out without her. Or half as written seeing as she held my hand through writing most of this.
> 
> I don't even know guys. I just... I just really wanted to write something for Christmas and this is what happened. I have no explanation.

**Dear Santa**

Geno watches Sidney tumble down his chimney, and for a moment, he wonders if he's still asleep. He pinches himself but no, nothing happens. Then again, who really knows if pinching works? This has to be a dream because he can't fathom a scenario in which Sidney Crosby would be hauling himself out of Geno's chimney, dusting soot from his hair.

And his bright red coat. And his shiny buckled boots. And— Okay, Geno is confused. He tilts his head and can only blink as Sid smiles at him.

“Hi Geno!” He says.

“You have problem with door?” Geno asks. If this is a dream, he might as well roll with it.

“Well, this was faster. Besides, I was already dressed. It seemed appropriate.”

“Dressed,” Geno says, flatly. “Dressed for what?”

Sid frowns. “For… Christmas?” He has this look on his face as if he’s confused, which… isn’t fair. Geno should be the one confused. His Captain just climbed out of his chimney dressed up as…

Oh, that’s where he recognizes the suit from. “Playing dress up, Sid?” He asks.

Sid keeps frowning. “Uh… No? I’m…Geno, I thought you…”

Geno watches some sort of realization dawn on Sid’s face, and feels a burgeoning headache. Anytime Sid assumes Geno knows something, it never ends well.

He has a feeling he’s in for a long night.

——————— 

"So you're saying you're Santa?" Geno asks after a long moment has passed. Of all the things he expected to hear, this wasn't even remotely on the list.

Maybe it was on Sidney's list. Maybe he checked it twice. Geno bites his tongue on a hysterical giggle.

Sid just raises an eyebrow. "Yes? What did you think the initials ‘SC’ on all of my things stood for?"

Geno stares at Sid and feels his eye twitch.  _ Really _ . "Sidney Crosby!" He says, hoping Sid understands how particularly dumb Geno thinks he is.

Sid's mouth parts on an 'o’. His cheeks start to flush and Geno wonders if he's realised how ridiculous this situation is. "... Okay well that  _ too, _ but, yeah," he says and shrugs. He actually shrugs, and Geno wants to shake him. This is bullshit.

Sid continues, however. “Anyway, I thought you already guessed."

_ What _ . "How I'm guess!" Geno shouts. The last of his patience has dried up and cracked, and he's not sure if his sanity has gone with it.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe Sid. It wouldn’t be his first run-in with magical beings. Everyone has them. Random encounters with strangers that ends in a turn of luck. Animals that seem to mutate and shift. Things that appear and disappear with no rhyme or reason. Honestly, anyone that’s lost a sock has probably experienced magic of some sort. Most people don’t hit their adulthood without at least one brush with something abnormal.

Geno’s first encounter was a little different, though. He’s not certain he’d seen any other beings before, but he definitely remembers  _ her _ . Snegurochka, the Snow Maiden. Her lips were blue, her eyes like diamonds, and her dress seemed to float around her as she walked around the rink where Geno and his friends would play hockey. He thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and one day he had told her so. She smiled at him, strange and almost sad, before leaning in to kiss him. It was fleeting, so cold that it burned, and he felt it like a brand for days after.

He had his growth spurt not long after. A miracle, his mama called it. He could try to play professionally now. He wasn’t too small, too sickly looking. A  _ miracle _ .

He tries not to think about that too much.

So maybe he subconsciously has a thing for holiday figures. So, no, it's not that he doesn't believe Sid. It's just that Snegurochka looked  _ exactly _ like the legends. Sid doesn't even remotely resemble any rendition of Santa Claus that Geno has ever seen. Belly like a bowl full of jelly, his  _ ass _ .

Speaking of asses, he's pretty sure a “beloved childhood figure” isn't supposed to resemble a wet dream. That's just… weird.

“I dunno!” Sid huffs. “You've been so understand when I’m tired lately!"

"Is what friends do! You're busy!  _ I'm _ busy!” Geno says, and something fragile and angry builds in him at Sid’s surprise. Care and consideration should not be such a foreign concept to Sid.

"You don't get mad when I cancel our plans!" Sid says, as if that's any argument at  _ all _ .

Geno snaps. "Is because I love you! Not because I'm think you're  _ Santa Claus _ .”

Silence reigns for a long moment.

"... You love me?" Sid asks, voice quiet and soft and  _ terrifying. _

They don’t really talk about it. This thing they’re doing. The thing where they’re basically dating. Where they dress up and go out and come home and trade kisses under the porch lights. Where they watch movies and snuggle on couches and nuzzle their noses in hairlines. Where they refuse hookups and setups and one night stands from other willing partners.

Where they do things like tell each other massively huge secrets about their career moonlighting as goddamn  _ Santa Claus _ , and the response is to apparently blurt a love confession.

"Like you! I like you. I— you—” Geno sputters. “Not important, you wanted to ask me something?"

"Not imp—” Sid’s hands twitch before he shoves them in his pockets. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine, okay, yes. Yes, I wanted to ask if you wanted to, uh, help?"

Geno blinks. He’s pretty surprised that Sid let his confession slide so easily. Then again, Sid never forgets anything so Geno doesn’t delude himself. This will come up again when he’s least expecting it. Hopefully, he’ll be better prepared. Until then, though. "Help,” he says.

He looks at Sid trying to figure out an explanation but Sid isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at the floor. Geno watches as a flush spreads from Sid’s cheeks to his ears and even daubs the top of his nose. It’s terribly endearing even if Geno has to shake the words ‘rosey cheeks and a cherry nose’ from his head. This is his team’s fault. His team and all their ridiculously cute children begging Geno for one more story, one more song, one more rhyme. Babysitting around the holidays has rotted his brain.

"Help me? With Christmas?"

"You want me to help? Is allowed?"

Sid glances up at him, then back to the floor. He flushes even  _ worse _ , somehow. His cheeks almost glow. "Uh, sort of."

"... Sort of." Geno deadpans. So help him, Sid is infuriating sometimes. It’s not like English is Geno’s strong suit. Talking around an issue does him no favours, and Sid knows that.

"Well, uh, you're allowed to help if you're... I mean Mr. Claus is supposed to have a Mrs. Or I guess a Mr? Pronouns aren't that important, but I'm technically not supposed to be doing this on my own. I mean, not permanently—"

"You're asking I marry you?" Geno squawks.

His heart lurches wildly and gets caught in his throat. Surely Sid can’t mean it. It’s one thing to be told Sid is Santa Claus, but he doesn’t think his suspension of disbelief stretches far enough to believe Sid wants to marry him. Sid couldn’t mean it. That couldn’t be possible. Geno’s misinterpreting, or mishearing, or mis-something. He’s missing something. He has to be.

But what if he isn’t? He watches as Sid bites his lip. There’s a rustling of fabric and when Geno looks down, Sid has curled his hands into fists in his pockets. Hope flutters in Geno’s breast as Sid opens his mouth and starts to babble.

"... I mean, kind of? You don't really have to marry me, necessarily. I'm allowed to ask for help from someone I think is trustworthy."

Geno shakes his head. "Is not what you say. You say you need a Mr.” He steps closer, and Sid looks up at him with wide eyes.

Can it be a Christmas miracle if Santa doesn’t even know it? Geno wonders. Or maybe it’s not a miracle, maybe it’s just life. Somewhere, somehow, Geno has done something truly wonderful to deserve something like this. He doesn’t know what it was, but he’s grateful all the same.

Sid’s lip wobbles. "Well, I don't  _ have _ to—"

"But you said. You didn't ask 'help me' you asked 'marry me',” Geno says. He’s not letting Sid get away with denying this. He may suck at English but he knows when he gets it right.

"I mean, technically, I didn't  _ actually _ —"

" _ Sid _ .” It’s probably rude to interrupt Santa Claus, Geno thinks, but fuck it, he’s Russian anyway. He probably doesn’t count. “Sid, yes."

"We really don't have to— Yes? Yes, as in... You'll help?"

Sid’s still looking up at him with his big bright eyes, and red spreading across his lips as he bites at them. Geno wonders how Sid could even think there’s any other answer. "Yes as in, I'm marry you."

Sid swallows loudly. "Geno, you don't have to,” he says.

"Want to.” He steps closer and Sid leans in and fuck it. “Said I love you, and love kids. Would help anyway."

"So we don't have to get married if you just want to help,” Sid says, voice breathless as Geno moves closer again.

"Stupid. You're not hearing me? Love you. Want to marry you. If you're wanting marry, then we marry. No take-backs." Geno grins and reaches his hands out.

Sid snorts. “You're serious." Sid pulls his hands from his pockets and lets Geno take them. His fingers curl around Geno’s tightly, as though he’ll never let go.

Geno hopes he never will. "Yes,” he says.

"This won't be easy you know. Not at all."

As if that’s a deterrent. "You're never easy. Is okay, love you anyway."

Sid grins up at him. "Well, I'm  _ sometimes _ easy. Depends on the circumstances."

Okay, Geno’s grasp of the English language may not be the greatest, but he’s a hockey player. He knows an innuendo when he hears one. "Sid," he says, voice hoarse.

"Did you know that an agreement and sex is a valid marriage in the eyes of elves?" Sid looks at him with determined and wild eyes, and it makes Geno shiver.

"Bullshit,” Geno says, but he’s tugging Sid closer anyway. “You're making up."

"Mmm, maybe,” Sid murmurs. His breath is hot against Geno’s lips. “Do you really want to take that chance, though?"

"...Get upstairs. Now."

 

**P.S.**

Later that night, when all is said and done and Sid is completely and willingly trapped in Geno’s arms, Sid kisses his cheek. “I love you too,” Sid says. “Thought I should make that clear.”

“Hope so,” Geno mumbles. “Married now. Be bad if you’re not loving me.”

Sid just grins and kisses him again.

 

**P.S.S.**

“Sid. Siiid.  _ Sid _ .”

“Mmph, Geno, what?”

“Sid, I’m see Rudolph?”

“... Of course you’re asking that. Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.”

“Sid…  _ Rudolph _ .”

“Geno,  _ tomorrow _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a tumblr! Feel free to ask me things :D](http://mermaple.tumblr.com/)


End file.
